For decades, cricket in Bangladesh has existed in close proximity to politics. What was once an uneasy overlap has now hardened into a pattern—one that is increasingly shaping not just who runs the game, but how the game itself functions. The consequences are no longer abstract. They are visible in stalled tournaments, frustrated players, and a domestic structure struggling to sustain itself.
The latest episode reflects that trajectory. The board led by former national captain Aminul Islam Bulbul, which allegedly came to power through an election influenced by the interim government, was dissolved on April 7 by the National Sports Council (NSC) following an investigation into allegations of irregularities and abuse of power. In its place, an 11-member ad hoc committee has been formed under another former captain, Tamim Iqbal.
Yet rather than marking a reset, the new committee appears to replicate many of the same problems that led to the previous board’s dissolution. A majority of its members are linked to senior leaders and ministers of ruling BNP, and several have little to no background in cricket administration. The message this sends is difficult to ignore: political proximity continues to outweigh professional competence.
The composition of the new committee has drawn criticism, particularly over the inclusion of individuals whose main identity lies in their political affiliations rather than their experience in managing cricket.
Among them are the sons, relatives, and close associates of influential political figures. While such appointments are not unprecedented in Bangladesh’s cricket administration, their concentration within a single committee is striking.
What is perhaps more telling, however, is the relative silence that has followed. Despite concerns about the committee’s credibility, there has been no widespread opposition from within the country’s cricketing community. This absence of resistance may point to a deeper normalisation of political control or a very poor performance of the previous board led by Bulbul.
That acceptance carries risks. When governance structures are shaped by loyalty rather than expertise, the capacity to address structural problems in the game becomes severely limited.
The most immediate victims of this politicisation are the players and the domestic competitions that sustain them.
Under Bulbul’s board, leading clubs such as Abahani and Mohammedan boycotted all Bangladesh Cricket Board (BCB) tournaments, refusing to recognise the legitimacy of the administration. The fallout was severe. The Dhaka Premier Division League (DPL), the country’s principal List-A competition, was delayed for months. The First Division League was reduced from 20 teams to 12. Lower-tier competitions, including the Second Division League, were cancelled entirely, while Third Division qualifiers have yet to begin.
For nearly 1,000 cricketers who depend on Dhaka’s club system for their livelihoods, the disruption has been devastating. These tournaments are not just competitive platforms; they are the primary source of annual income for a large segment of the cricket ecosystem.
National team player Shamim Hossain captured the frustration succinctly: the absence of a Premier League in a cricket-playing nation is not just embarrassing—it is damaging.
Although there is now some relief, with the DPL scheduled to begin on May 6, the uncertainty has already taken its toll.
The damage extends beyond immediate livelihoods. Domestic cricket forms the foundation of Bangladesh’s player development system. It is where cricketers prove themselves, earn recognition, and move into higher pathways such as the High Performance Unit or the Bangladesh A team.
When this system falters, the entire pipeline weakens. Players lose match practice during peak seasons, selectors have fewer opportunities to assess form, and the transition from domestic to international cricket becomes more fragile.
This deterioration at the grassroots level inevitably reflects on the national team. A country’s international performance cannot be sustained without a strong and competitive domestic structure. When the foundation is unstable, the results at the top are bound to suffer.
The politicisation of the BCB is not new. The presidency has long been a position shaped by influence rather than purely by administrative merit.
Nazmul Hasan Papon, who served for nearly 12 years, maintained his grip on the board through a combination of political authority and control over Dhaka’s club cricket structure. As an elected member of parliament, his influence extended beyond cricket, allowing him to consolidate power within the board.
During his tenure, allegations of vote manipulation, umpiring bias, and preferential treatment for certain clubs surfaced repeatedly. Incidents involving players such as Shahriar Nafees and Shakib Al Hasan highlighted tensions within domestic cricket, often linked to perceived injustices in officiating.
Corporate entities and politically connected individuals also played a role in shaping outcomes, further blurring the line between sport and power.
Yet even in that period, domestic competitions continued uninterrupted—something that cannot be said of the more recent administration.
There have been exceptions. Saber Hossain Chowdhury, who led BCB between 1996 and 2001, is often cited as an example of a political figure who used his influence to strengthen rather than control the game. Under his leadership, Bangladesh achieved Test status and saw improvements in infrastructure and organisation.
His tenure suggests that political involvement is not inherently damaging—if it is exercised with restraint and a commitment to professionalism. The problem arises when control becomes the objective, rather than development.
Some observers argue that politicisation is inevitable. Political science professor Sabbir Ahmed describes BCB as part of a broader political economy, involving significant financial flows and institutional power.
In such an environment, he suggests, political actors will naturally seek influence. The absence of strict regulatory frameworks only reinforces this trend.
But to conclude that “nothing can be done” is to accept a status quo that is already producing visible harm. The current situation demonstrates that unchecked influence can disrupt competitions, alienate stakeholders, and weaken the very structure it seeks to control.
The ad hoc committee has been given 90 days to organise fresh elections. Several of its members, including Tamim Iqbal, are expected to contest.
Whether this transition leads to meaningful reform remains uncertain. If the same patterns of political patronisation continue, the cycle is likely to repeat—different faces, similar outcomes.
For Bangladesh cricket, the stakes are high. Years of investment, talent development, and international recognition have brought the game to its current level. But as one former board director put it, the system has increasingly become a platform for exercising power rather than nurturing sport.
The result is a cricket ecosystem where governance instability translates directly into field performance.
And unless that link between politics and control is addressed, the game risks paying an even greater price in the years ahead.
